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Sports brand Puma, luxury brand Gucci and the gurus at Apple Computer all provide notable examples of great brand revitalisations during the 90s.

The strategic lessons from these turnarounds do not emanate from what these brands did, but rather what they did not do. First, they did not change their names or logos. Second, they did not announce that they were about to save, reposition or do anything particularly radical to their brand. Third, they were patient; each brand took a decade or more to turn around. Fourth, they did it in-house without depending on identity consultants to assist them. Fifth, they did not recruit senior thinkers from established consumer marketing companies to replicate branding strategies from FMCG; they did it their own, brand-specific, way. Sixth, any changes in ad strategies and spend came years after the initial turnaround had begun.

In contrast to all this, consider Abbey - an entrant to the ever-growing pantheon of big-budget brand fiascos. Every element of its rebranding smacks of bad practice. Abbey spoke of simplifying its identity to differentiate itself from the 'confusing, irritating and patronising' way banks typically communicate with customers. Yet seven months after its bold simplification, most of its 700 branches are still branded Abbey National, while confusingly and irritatingly, the ads affixed to the windows below proclaim the new Abbey brand.

Consider the comments of Angus Porter, Abbey's customer propositions director, whose stated aim was 'to do what IKEA has done for design, Oddbins for wine and Jamie Oliver for cooking'. A warning light should go off every time a senior marketer starts to aspirationally ape other brands in other sectors with other customers and totally different brand equities.

It's usually a sign of strategic naivety and impending doom.

Abbey's boardroom behaviour hardly inspires confidence either.

Despite promising to 'democratise money' and to 'help everyone, not just the privileged few, get on top of their money', Abbey chief executive Luqman Arnold awarded himself and his finance director £2m bonuses despite achieving nothing in 2003 except major losses and a costly and misconceived rebranding campaign. The pay awards were denounced as 'nonsense' by The Observer and 'somewhat concerning' by the National Association of Pension Funds.

What sort of company rebrands itself in the personal finance market, only to announce a major loss in quarterly profits in that sector a month later? Surely such bad news would have been better associated with the outgoing old Abbey National brand?

Luqman planned not only to revolutionise the company but to change the face of British banking. A great brand strategy does not start with name changes, new logos, £15m ad campaigns or bold predictions from chief executives.

It starts with fixing internal problems. Quietly. It involves rebuilding a brand from the inside out and it takes many years.

Anyone, and I mean anyone, with access to the company coffers can commission peak-time ads and identity overhauls. This is the easy, unsuccessful way to rebuild a brand. Where Consignia has led in great branding follies, Abbey has followed. Avoid the habit if you can.

- Mark Ritson is assistant professor of marketing at London Business School

30 SECONDS ON ... CORPORATE IDENTITY FOUL-UPS

- Tobacco firm Philip Morris attracted ridicule from the City and public cynicism last year when it changed its parent company name to Altria. Once a tobacco company, always a tobacco company, said unimpressed critics.

- The Post Office's 2001 rebirth as Consignia backfired. Postal workers threatened strike action and refused to use it. Chairman Allan Leighton quickly reversed the decision.

- PricewaterhouseCoopers Consulting was hit by employee rage when it switched its name to the perplexing Monday in 2002. Monday returned to being just a day of the week later that year when IBM bought the firm.

- Yorkshire Water was voted the most hated UK company in 1996 after serious water shortages in its region the previous year meant it had to import lorry-fulls of water. A new parent, Kelda, was formed in 1998. New name; no one forgot.